


Battle

by en passant (corinthian)



Series: Another War [2]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Gen, Master AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 05:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6066900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinthian/pseuds/en%20passant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grail Wars aren't easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of the optional "expansion pack" of the AU.

"I'll be depending on you, Lancer." Arjuna says, smiles far too care-free, and adds, "And I hope that you can depend on me as well."

It's their first fight — Arjuna had been tracking the movements of the other participants from the first day. Karna had been surprised to see Arjuna's elaborate system, the runes that covered the entire eastern wall of the second study in the large house that was his alone, the dozen familiars (each one distinct and each one shows a different thought of Arjuna's). The preparation must have been intense. 

Arjuna has been trying hard to conduct himself like a mature magus. Karna has questions — isn't he too young for that, how did that huge magic circuit system end up in that small frame, where are Arjuna's guardians, what is his favorite food in this life, is he happy, what does he wish for in the Grail War?, when was the last time he shed tears?

(The day Arjuna's parents died, he went to school as if everything was normal. He went to school for the next three days, did not sleep and did not eat. He went to school and performed his daily tasks until his body gave out and he had been forced to face the reality that they were never coming home. He does not mourn well.)

"Caster won't be easy, since we'll be heading into their territory." Arjuna nods to himself, and sorts through the top drawer of his dresser. Karna can only do so much to keep his face solemn as Arjuna discards a pair of white gloves, chooses a pair of black — they contrast better with the jacket and shirt he's laid out on the bed.

He wants to look impressive, like a magus going into battle — but he doesn't have any combat clothes, no uniform or magus robes, so he dresses in his Sunday best instead. Except for his shoes, red sneakers that he had told Karna, defensively, were his good-luck shoes. No one had ever died when he had been wearing them.

Arjuna fidgets, when he's dressed. Karna can tell he wants to ask: How do I look? But is still (persistently, this is a personality trait of his) too proud to admit to it.

"Let's go," instead Arjuna moves to brush past Karna, but in a gesture that is entirely his own, for this lifetime, he reaches up and tugs on Karna's bangs. "Ready to kick some ass?" Karna pretends that he can't tell Arjuna's bravado covers a shred of insecurity, and that he can't see the slight flush on his cheeks.

"At your orders," Karna replies. He accepts the unfamiliar intimacy from this version of his brother, it's something to cherish.

"My orders are let's do it tonight, no more waiting!" 

They are derailed, briefly, however because even though Arjuna is enthusiastic and ready for a fight, his fingers tremble. He fumbles the laces of his shoes and while the left gets tied finally, on the third attempt on his right he is ready to just go barefoot.

"It's not like I'll be running, probably." He mutters, darkly, his embarrassment clear in his voice and the redness of his face.

"Your commands, Master?" Karna can't help but to ask.

For a moment, Arjuna's face is dark and angry. Karna remembers that his brother never liked being told he couldn't do something, that he needed help. But then Arjuna sighs, his shoulders slump and in a small, humiliated voice, he says, "Karna, fix this."

"Aa."

Karna kneels before his Master and deftly knots the laces. He can feel Arjuna's fingers in his hair (again).

"You really are here to support me in every way, huh?" Arjuna's voice sounds faint, like he's talking to himself. Since Karna doesn't believe words can truly communicate his feelings (yes, of course, forever) he stays silent.

* * *

He hasn't done anything like this before. He didn't intend to either, but Arjuna stood at the very edge of the skyscraper's roof and shut his eyes against the wind. There's a tragic, cautionary tale of a boy who climbed too high and believed too much in himself that ends in despair. Karna can only think of that, when Arjuna's eyes are shut and his expression too still.

Then he opens his eyes and grins that challenging smile that Karna finds so nostalgic. Arjuna points to a point in the distance.

"There, Caster is there." He asks: "Shall we?" 

Arjuna doesn't wait for a reply — he trusts Karna with his life — and just steps off the building ledge. His trust isn't misplaced, of course. Karna had already been moving forward and he effortlessly materializes with his arms supporting Arjuna.

"Reckless." Karna comments. Either on that stunt or Arjuna's plans to enter Caster's terf to do battle.

"Is there really anything to fear, with you by my side? I know your legend, you're invincible except for against one person." Arjuna laughs — he doesn't understand the irony, yet — "Me, right? And this time around, we're on the same side. No one stands a chance."

He's more right than he knows.

Karna isn't thinking about that, however. He's thinking about Arjuna's laugh, the expression on his face and how Arjuna is looking forward, instead of back.

"If you order victory, I'll obtain it." It isn't a boast. Karna can't help but to believe in Arjuna's confidence. In a way, it had always been Arjuna that made him a little foolhardy. They brought out the strongest in each other.

Caster's territory hums and warps. It's easy to tell as soon as they get close, the rooftops near seem as though they're rotting. (It is a good thing that Arjuna did not come to this battle barefoot.)

Energy gathers in Arjuna's hand — he plans to attack the barrier straight on, immediately — so familiarly eager for the battlefield and the joy that came with a victory. The glimmering barrage of arrows cluster and release at Arjuna's command. They shatter, split and continue to tear through the barrier. Karna sets Arjuna down and readies his lance.

Arjuna stands by his side, not a single step behind him, and lets out a wordless whoop of laughter.

As Karna raises his lance against the woman who's words warp the reality around them, he can't help but to want to join in the laughter as well. He doesn't make a sound, but it's unmistakable even to their enemies: Karna is smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

Saber's Master is a magus from a very old bloodline — Arjuna mentions offhand to Karna that his own bloodline is young, and he has to add, but very powerful. Karna knows that, since there is no other way that Arjuna could sustain their bond, and in honestly, there shouldn't have been any way for Arjuna to call Karna down without a proper catalyst. (The catalyst that Arjuna used was an old action figure of his older — the one from this life— brother's, and his willpower.)

Like a proper duel, Saber sent a letter, an invitation. It arrives carried by a hawk — Karna remarks that Arjuna also has a hawk familiar, but while this one is tawny, Arjuna's is white. Arjuna makes a face, disliking the comparison and graciously accepts the letter. He also can't help but shoo his hands at the familiar, brushing it off the windowsill.

"It isn't a surprise that they could find me after how we dealt with Caster, probably." He muses. Then he laughs and turns the letter around to show Karna. "Can you believe? A duel!"

"An invitation." Karna nods. It has been some time — it has been too long — since he had faced an enemy with confidence that they would obey the rules of combat.

"They signed their full name and even left her Servant's name. Old fashioned..." Arjuna chews his lower lip, but only briefly. As soon as he realizes he's worrying at it, he stops. He hates showing his inexperience and his youth. It's unfortunate, since Karna finds it refreshing and endearing, to know that the little brother he has here is still young enough to do such things. That this Arjuna isn't so untouchable.

Sir Artis Cappodraig  
Servant Saber, Siegfried

Karna can't stop the soft sound that escapes him. He shouldn't remember, but he does. A swordsman well worth the fame of his legend. Like an old wound the memory stings, and like the memory of an old friend, it brings a deep longing.

"Lancer?" Arjuna's perceptive. A little bit of worry makes it onto his face, "Do you know...?"

"... we've met before."

"So you know how to beat him?" Arjuna's worry evaporates, instead he's eager again. "Then this should be easy."

"He's formidable." Not a warning, no caution, Karna feels something like excitement. To be able to cross their blades again, to complete a duel that never came to fruition, to even just see that face again. His heart beat a little faster, spread warmth through his body. "Well worth our efforts." He adds, just for Arjuna's benefit.

Worry reappears on Arjuna's face — but it isn't in doubt of their skills. There is something more reflective, turned inward, and Karna can't quite read him. It is like self-doubt, but more transient. "His Master must be strong as well," Arjuna finally says, "To invite us out — they must think they can best us. Or it's a trap."

"There is always that possibility. The rules of this war are flexible."

"All strategies are valid, hm?" 

For the past few nights they had stayed up to discuss a strategy together — rather, Arjuna stayed up. Karna suspects that Arjuna simply likes talking to him. In the kitchen at the table with notes spread about, or in the living room where Arjuna would start on the firm armchair, sitting straight and tall and eventually move to the couch and sprawl out.

This night, however, Arjuna bide Karna good night and retreated to his room. The door is shut firmly and quietly and Karna does not eavesdrop.

(Arjuna hasn't cried for his parents, or his brothers who died. For some reason, the night his Servant shows more interest in a letter than him, his chest feels heavy and he sobs into his pillows. It's childish, and he can recognize it as so — but he's not mature enough to be aware that these tears are much older.)

* * *

The location chosen for the duel is simple. A field just outside of town, but far enough that they won't be disturbed. Artis is a blonde youth that is a handful of years older than Arjuna, wearing comfortable jeans and a jacket. There is something so very plain about them, but also a nostalgic regal air.

Servant Saber stands there as well, in plain sight.

"... he's huge," Arjuna murmurs as soon as he catches sight of the pair.

Karna's legs try to carry him forward. Already he can feel the fire travel down his veins, his entire being made lighter. It takes considerable willpower to stand next to Arjuna, as his Master comes to a stop.

"Sir Artis Cappodraig." Arjuna calls out.

"That's me." The voice that answers is young to Karna's ears, but mature enough that it rankles Arjuna.

"I'm Arjuna," he omits his last name, he has no title, somehow he wields these two facts like weapons, aggressive. "With Servant Lancer. We've come to meet your challenge."

"I'm glad. We were worried that you might refuse us, or worse, set a trap." Artis smiles, "Whenever you're ready, we can begin. I think it's best if they fight and we support them, do those terms work for you?"

"That's fine," Arjuna replies, fiercely. Already his Magecraft burns at his fingertips, ready.

Like a shield, Artis's also wraps around them and their Servant before disappearing like a gust of wind.

"Lancer." Arjuna says.

"Siegfried," Artis puts a hand on their Servant's shoulder. Siegfried turns to them and kneels, words are exchanged — the language is hard and foreign on Arjuna's ears — and somehow it feels ceremonial, like a king bestowing a blessing to a knight.

"Ready." 

The Servants need no other urging. 

(Artis carried memories that they should not have, dreams of regret and a burning desire to do something simple, something honorable and see something to the end. In a fight like this, a duel with no tricks, perhaps they will be able to wipe the slate clean and start anew.

That idea suits Siegfried just fine.)

* * *

The earth scorches, the grass turns to ash in their presence. The force of the Servants' collision seems to bend the very air. The sound that dominates the battlefield, however, isn't that of their clashing blades or even that of the burning ground.

It's laughter.

Saber is laughing. There's a great joy to him, even as he swings the sword to attempt bisecting Lancer.

"Only in dreams could this have happened." Siegfried's voice calls out. (And, perhaps, only in dreams had it before. Behind him, supportive magics flaring and tranquil aqua is his Master. Artis is smiling, they know their Servant well.)

"Luck is on my side again," Karna speaks, and there is no mistaking the joy in his words. "To face you again, and for you too to have recalled our previous battles."

"Our previous duel was carved into my soul, how could I forget?" Siegfried is equally as happy.

Arjuna lets the heat of the battlefield wash over him — he doesn't understand this kind of combat. Meeting an enemy with passion and pleasure. He doesn't understand because to kill someone dear to him would be so difficult. (In another life, he cried over the idea of murdering a relative — but he also killed his brother unknowingly.)

That's why — that, and another desire, different and changed in this life — when he thinks he sees Karna falter he can't stop his feet from moving forward.

It isn't a falter, but rather Siegfried's sword pushes Karna back. Karna's feet leave great furrows in the earth, and as it is with two heroes of equal power, the advantage sits on a knife's edge.

"— Lancer — !" (Karna!) It's different from how he had been called before, the last time Arjuna had raced across a battlefield towards him. It's enough to pull Karna out of his battlejoy. He spares a single glance away from Siegfried, to Arjuna who scrambles over the torn ground towards them.

It's a far cry from the supreme archer Arjuna racing towards Karna on a chariot. Just a human magus, who tosses small blazing arrows at Siegfried. To another human, those arrows could rend limbs and to a magical barrier or construct, they could dissolve and break them down. To Siegfried, a Heroic Spirit and one of the greatest heroes who couldn't even be touched by such attacks, they were almost meaningless.

But — the arrows never reached Siegfried either.

A grand gust of wind — that brought the sea salt air, a feeling of a solid castle and a round unbreakable ring — blew them away. Artis had not moved from their position, still standing behind as Siegfried's support, but they had countered Arjuna's attack. Even if it would not have done anything to their Servant.

This was that kind of battle. A battle meant to be met on equal grounds, because the feelings between all four of them were easy to understand.

"I'm also going to support my Servant!" Artis's voice rings out. There's a kind of confidence to the way their carry themselves. It is easy to imagine them as a general, or king.

Arjuna almost bats the words out of the air. His first instinct is to shout back, to make a grand proclamation, to threaten Artis or Siegfried. But he is, now, not all heart and not so easily led by his emotions. He looks to Artis, acknowledges them with a curt nod, but his words address Karna: "I'm here to support you. I'm your equal here — so don't you dare let me down. I'm your partner."

They were not words that Karna would have ever thought to hear, not even in this lifetime. Siegfried's expression seems to match Karna's bemusement, however.

"I'm being outclassed by a kid..." Artis can also be heard saying, before they also add, louder: "Sorry to copy, but I can't let this pass without adding my own voice. Siegfried, my honorable Saber, while you are my sword, I'll be your shield. We're in this fight together, as always."

It could have been a fight for the century. It should have been. But just as the Servants ready their weapons, again, a roar rips through the air. A voice that can be heard by magi and the every day human alike. Like a terrible melody, but jagged and brutal.

"... Berserker..." Arjuna says, but his voice is hushed because something in that awful voice demands silence before it.

"This can't be allowed," it's Artis who moves first, "Siegfried!" And the pair starts racing back to the city.

Arjuna and Karna join them, Arjuna offering: "A truce, for now? We have other responsibilities as magi to adhere to. The fight can always wait."

"An alliance." Artis agrees.

Siegfried, and Karna, both find it incredibly unlikely that they would be able to face in combat and then fight shoulder to shoulder in the same war. It heartens them, bolsters them and leads them forward.


	3. Chapter 3

A trap.

Both Siegfried and Karna noticed immediately, their Masters only a second later. What had been firm ground, a dirt road leading back into the city, became a labyrinth all too quickly. Massive vines, branches and brambles overgrow, creating walls. Only two paths appeared before them — and without any words, Karna took one and Siegfried the other.

"We'll meet again," Karna says — but Siegfried isn't close enough to hear it. Arjuna frowns, taken aback by how eager his Servant sounds. But there's no time for introspection, because even as they move forward, the walls around them shift and change.

On the second corner they take, Arjuna stops. "It doesn't matter." He says.

"The maze isn't a maze." Karna continues for him.

Arjuna grins. He's always enjoyed puzzles, the satisfactory feeling of something unlocking and being revealed to him. (He has never quite enjoyed the opposite.) He reaches out and trails his fingers in the leaves, the bright blue of his magecraft searing the plants.

It's not quite a rune. Karna noticed that none of Arjuna's magic is standard, none of the symbols he draws are Germanic, druidic, familiar to the magi in this world. Some of them feel familiar, but even Karna can't read them. He thinks they must be another gift of the gods, that in this life as well, Arjuna carries their blessings. Though, this Arjuna is less peerless, and if he was so blessed would they have taken his family away from him as well? A question that he'll never have the answer to.

"Hey, hey, don't burn down the forest." A voice. Probably a Servant, but even Karna can't sense anything and by the way that Arjuna shifts closer, he also can't pinpoint the voice.

"Show yourself." Arjuna commands.

"You shouldn't really talk back to your elders like that, kiddo! You've entered my forest and you gotta pay a toll as consequence."

"I'll burn it all down." Arjuna promises. "Besides, you're a coward who won't even show his face!"

"Coward? Well, I can't argue with that. But didn't you know a war is about winning and not about who has the shiniest shoes at the end? Did your parents always give you a gold star for behaving good? I don't have time for that. I was going to be nice and give you a hint, too. Unless you want to wander this maze until you die! Which, fine by me. Cute kid, cuter dead Master, something like that."

The symbol Arjuna is sketching is complete and without a word, he sets the spell off. It burns fast and bright and eats through the wall of the labyrinth brilliantly. But behind that wall is another wall.

"Wow, good job." A taunt, "Sure how your adherence to the rules of combat can get you out of this one!"

"Lancer." Arjuna takes a deep breath. It's hard to calm his anger, but he knows that raising to the bait is what their enemy wants. "Let's go straight forward."

"A somewhat thoughtless approach." Karna doesn't disagree with Arjuna's plan, but it would be remiss not to comment on it.

"Sometimes the simplest answer is the best!" Arjuna's brows draw together in consternation and his cheeks puff, just slightly. "It's not truly a maze, so there's no reason to play his game."

"Then we'll break it down." Karna agrees.

It's easy, at first. The tangled ivy and roots part easily before Karna's lance. They barely need to slow in their cadence, Arjuna's magic acting as a light in the dark forest that has sprung up around them. Arjuna feels confident, Karna can tell by the lightness of his steps. Karna can't help but also feel that this fight will go quickly.

"Oh, you should really stop. The labyrinth is way friendlier than I am." The voice continues to speak.

"As if," Arjuna breathes, he thinks they're getting closer.

"I've got to agree with your Servant here. Thoughtless, reckless, you're just asking to get it!" And, "Your inexperience reflects poorly on those around you, kid. With a Servant like that, you must think you're hot stuff. Really powerful, I can tell. But you know, what do they say? The more powerful they are, the less they are able to do when it really matters."

"Shut up, you could never best Lancer in a fight!" Arjuna yells back. Karna can only be amused. Attacks on his character are hardly new or interesting to him, but Arjuna seems to take them very personally. It's unusual to think of, being defended from malalignment by Arjuna. It's a memory he'll keep safe and dear.

Karna thinks on this, perhaps too fondly.

The next wall they burst through reveals their enemy. He's sitting on a tree stump, an arrow is buried in the ground in front of him. For all that he looks plain — dressed in huntsmen green, face shadowed by a hood, once they set eyes on him there is no doubting that he's a Servant.

Assassin smirks.

"Ah, you know what? You're absolutely right!" They should have heeded that warning. "There's no way a guy like me can stack up to your Servant. Good thing I won't have to."

Karna starts forward, he'll finish it quickly. The space next to Karna becomes empty. A sound like a whip, a cord, a dread string, being tightened fills the air. Panic strikes him, at first distant and foreign. When had he ever felt such unease? He should call out _Master_ but his voice betrays him, "Arjuna!"

"Oh, wow, looks like he's hanging on there!" Karna only barely registers the taunt — the distress in his veins boiling over because he sees the red of Arjuna's sneakers against the green foliage of the labyrinth. His feet aren't touching the ground anymore. He's held up by a wire looped around his neck.

His first thought is to continue his forward motion and spear Assassin through the chest where he stands.

"I'm not opposed to a showdown either, but do you really have time for that? If you kill me, won't it be meaningless when you Master over there dies?" Assassin stands, too relaxed to be ready for combat, but Karna can't ignore the truth in the words either.

Arjuna's feet kick helplessly in the air, his hands tear at his throat, trying to get under the wire. The wire itself burns through the fabric of Arjuna's turtleneck, through his gloves. There's already so much blood.

But, Arjuna's expression is twofold. A layer of nothing but murder and rage, for Assassin. And then a layer of fear. He never thought he might lose, even though he knows people die every day.

The decision is easy. It only takes one jump to reach Arjuna, and one motion to sever the wire around his neck. Arjuna feels light against him, even as his entire weight drops and sags. Karna listens to him draw ragged breaths and ignores the weeping in his voice.

"Kill him," Karna does not ignore the next thing Arjuna says. It's barely an order, his voice hardly works and he's still furiously wiping at his tears, smearing blood across his face and trying to calm down. He's scared, Karna can tell by the way his hands shake and the fact that Arjuna stays pressed close. " _Kill him._ "

It's an order Karna would follow gladly, but Assassin is nowhere to be seen. Around them, the walls of the labyrinth start to decay and crumble. 

"Arjuna," Karna kneels, brings them both down to the ground so he can carefully tilt his Master's head to the side and examine his neck. Shreds of cloth are pressed into the thin wounds that wrap around his throat, the bleeding has slowed, but not stopped, the edges look burned.

"I'm fine." Arjuna's voice is still soft and rasping, his hands push at Karna. Arjuna's fingers resemble his neck, cut and bleeding.

"My apologies — " Karna begins, but Arjuna's left hand is shoved into his face.

"Fine. I... I'm..." Arjuna starts strongly, but Karna can feel the pressure of fingers on his cheeks lessen and the hand fall away from his face. Then it's as if he can't catch his breath, hands going back to his throat where Karna is sure no more wire remains.

He holds Arjuna's wrists, to keep him from tearing at himself anymore. Poison. And he has no idea how to fix this.

* * *

Siegfried runs down the corridor, and Artis follows. It was something they decided when they first made their contract — Artis will protect Siegfried, as they are able to and Siegfried will strike down their enemies. Even if it isn't a compatible idea — Siegfried is a Servant, a Heroic Spirit, one of the greatest heroes ever and Artis is, simply, a human magus, their trust in each other makes it work.

("I feel like I've been a spectator in my own life," Artist had said, "I've been too ruled by regrets that I don't remember the cause of."

"I don't want any regrets, this time." Siegfried's answer had been far too in line with their own.)

They have both decided to fight to the end, in their own way, and not look back.

The path brings them to a clearing, a dead end.

"... a trap in a trap, huh." Artis comments.

"On your guard," Siegfried answers, but it isn't an admonishment. Artis nods, takes it as it was meant to be: a statement of loyalty.

The first arrow comes from the left, the second from the right, and the last from above. All three Artis easily knocks away with wind called up with a few words under their breath.

"Archer." They comment.

"We may have to seek them out." Siegfried's sword is held lightly, for all his own mass and the weapon's weight, it would be like nothing for him to cleave the walls in half, to furrow the ground.

"Shall I?" Artis asks.

"If you would, Master." Siegfried bows his head, only slightly. It has always been natural to be deferential to his Master.

It is an old spell, one that Artis never remembers learning but has stayed with them. It's a simple spell, as well. The image of a clear lake with the truth laid for before them is conjured, and wind and water scattered. It shows Artis what is beyond the leaves, ivy and thick branched walls of the labyrinth — revealing Archer, only a handful of meters away.

"There," they point.

Siegfried doesn't even need to look, everything is translated between them before Artis even speaks and he twists around, sword swinging.

"Ahh! Shit, shit, this is bad!" Archer yelps, scrambles back, and only just avoids being cut to pieces. Siegfried doesn't let up his assault, he presses forward as Archer presses back into the thicket. It's a one-sided fight.

For the second time that day, Siegfried is interrupted. The entire labyrinth around them begins to crumble and fade. Archer's eyes widen and he slips into spirit form, fleeing as fast as he is able. While both Siegfried and Artis would have pursued, they both slow and stop their chase, coming across Lancer bent over his Master who convulses on the ground.

"— Arjuna, Lancer." Artis greets.

"Poisoned." Lancer's voice is even, and his face shows no signs of stress, but the atmosphere around him is black. "Assassin fled, and there is still Berserker." He continues.

"Can be left for another day," Siegfried murmurs, but he understands the feeling of helplessness. There is nothing a hero can do in this situation.

Artis's fingers worry the hem of their shirt, and then they bow their head and take a slow deep breath. When they raise their head a faint smile is on their face. "... I can help a little, but it won't be enough to truly save him."

Lancer sits up, abruptly. It is clear to both Artis and Siegfried that since Artis had admitted to having an aid, if they withheld it, Lancer would kill them both with no regrets.

"You'll need to watch him carefully, and he'll need to have the will to live."

"He does," a statement of promise for them both.

Siegfried places a hand on Artis's shoulder, this is a warning. He knows what they are offering, but he doesn't disapprove.

"Then, here it is." Artis's hand glows and a single shard — like the metal from a great scabbard — shines golden in their palm. It's so small, barely half an inch long and not as wide as their littlest finger, even. "When we meet again on the battlefield, I would like to see you both well. We won't hold back, then."

The shard is pressed into Arjuna's trembling fingers — he is not aware of it, nor will he be until Lancer informs him of what happened later. The effect is immediate, his wheezing breath settles and even his shivers lessen.

"Until we meet again," Siegfried says and bows. Lancer nods absently back at him, his Master's head cradled in his lap. There's a solemn sense to his figure, a complicated feeling that neither Artis nor Siegfried could claim to understand.

* * *

("That was quite a lot to give a stranger," a comment Siegfried makes.

"No regrets, remember?" Artis punches his shoulder, and the smile they have is anything but regretful. "Besides, I want to fight them again, at full-power. Don't even try to say that you don't want to as well."

Even the way Siegfried ducks his head doesn't hide his wide smile.)


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, was that underhanded enough for you, Master?" Assassin jokes.

"Hm, shouldn't I be asking you the same question?" His Master's response is just as amicable — one part honest humor and one part self-deprecation.

"Hey, hey, you call the shots here! I'm all for foisting off responsibility when I can."

"Talk all you want, this is the best we can do."

"Ha, isn't that not good enough, Master~?"

* * *

Karna takes Arjuna home. He's aware of the way Arjuna's body tucks against his, small and delicate and how blood still seeps from the cuts around his neck. Shouldn't it have stopped, by now? The shakes are less, barely even tremors, but Karna feels each and every single one of them. He almost failed his Master in the worst way, he could still fail Arjuna now. He bandages him, tucks him into bed and stands by his side.

It's six hours later when Arjuna opens his eyes. His cheeks are still flushed and his glassy eyes search the ceiling. He almost — Karna can tell, calls out for his father, the title at the tip of his tongue — before he stops himself. His face seems to grow older as he searches for someone to call out to in his time of need.

"It hurts," Arjuna whispers and tears well at the corners of his eyes. "Please come home." He adds, in an even softer voice. (Arjuna's parents and siblings, who had been traveling, never returned.) Karna is too slow to give his reassurance — he had been delayed by thinking of this Arjuna as his proud brother who would not have wanted Karna's pity.

Arjuna sits up, winces when he puts pressure on his damaged fingers, and swings his feet over the edge of the bed. "Lancer. I am sorry for my own weakness. I — I won't let it happen again." Arjuna's feet don't touch the floor, the bed frame is just a little too tall for his legs. He has to slide forward so he can stand.

He sways and there are still tears in his eyes.

"... the weakness was my own." Karna interjects, he wants to sweep Arjuna back up into his arms and back into bed. There is nothing more terrible than the ashy gaunt look of torment on Arjuna's face, the red stained bandages around his throat, and the fact that Karna can see how easily burdens settle themselves around him.

"You're a great hero... the kind that keeps going, even when things are unfair." Karna realizes, when Arjuna speaks those words, exactly why in this lifetime (this time, only) Arjuna had been able to call him to his side. The catalyst had not only been the fact that Arjuna had been reborn, but also that simple truth: a desire to be with him and be supported by him. "I'll be doing my best, too." Arjuna forces a small smile that's more like a grimace.

"Rest," Karna admonishes, "You're still not well." He worries, admits to worrying. "You were poisoned."

"... I will, but can you... leave?" Arjuna doesn't want to ask that. Karna knows, if he were able to, Arjuna would walk out of his bedroom to somewhere secret. But from the way his knees are locked and he hasn't moved an inch, Karna knows that he can't. "Please." Arjuna adds, reaches out to put his hand on the bedside table, for balance.

To argue wouldn't be proper, not like a Master and Servant should be. For Karna, who had always carried that as well — _if you order it, I will carry it out_ , despite his personality, has always been an obedient Servant.

"Forgive my refusal." Karna says, instead and gives in to his urge. He easily picks Arjuna up, re-deposits him in bed. "Crying over weakness or pain happens." I'm here with you.

Half of Arjuna's tears, at least, are relief. The only sound in the empty house is his sobs and Karna's soft murmured reassurances. The other half, frustration, pain, fear. He won't admit that he's afraid he won't wake up the next day and in return, Karna won't voice his own concern. But when Arjuna cries himself to exhaustion and sleeps again, he is somewhat consoled knowing that Heroic Spirit Karna is there with him.

* * *

Assassin's poison leaves its mark. Arjuna's hands will be scarred for the rest of his life, tiny hairline lines that go across his fingertips and palm. The coiled scars around his throat will never fade. For years to come he'll be prone to attacks of shortness of breath or tremors, but, he'll still be alive. That counts as a victory.

* * *

(The battle with Archer is, mostly, not worth mentioning. A coward in life and a coward in death. The alliance with Assassin and his Master fell apart quite easily — or perhaps, it had been staged that way all along. A way for Assassin to escape Karna's ire just a little longer.)


	5. Chapter 5

They decide to meet with Artis and Siegfried. Their temporary alliance can hold until Berserker is defeated, at least. Arjuna doesn't know how to thank Artis — and Karna's only advice is, do what you want — so he over does it, a little.

"Thank you for coming..." Arjuna greets them. Artis looks much the same as they had before, but with a scarf that looks handmade — clumsily knitted, but has blobby crowns designed into the ends. Siegfried, however, in casual clothes rather than his Servant gear is no less tall, no less broad and certainly no less imposing. Arjuna can't help the way his eyes travel up and up and up to find Seigfried's face. The beat up leather jacket over a KISS ME IM A PANTHERS FAN shirt that is just one size too small, and certainly doesn't help. The jeans he had on are too short and the flip flops look out of place. "... please, come in...." 

"You look good!" Artis smiles at him, ushers Siegfried in first and then follows. "I was really worried, that was pretty nasty."

"Thank you for your assistance with that as well..." Arjuna continues to have his sentences trail off. He hasn't ever been put in this position before. His life has never been saved by a stranger, and he had always imagined that when he started his Grail War it would be him and his Servant against the world. 

"I'm not in this war to play dirty," Artis is saying, "It's all or nothing, right? No regrets —" but interrupt themselves with a gasp.

Since he's behind them, after shutting and locking the door, Arjuna lets himself grimace. He had hoped that it would be sufficient, to supply food for their alliance meeting, but since he hadn't know what Artis would like and if Servants needed to eat (they didn't, but Siegfried was so tall maybe he did anyway) and then also as a thank you — the entire expanse of his dining room table was covered in a variety of foods. Snacks, a roast, cans of soda, candy, pastries, everything.

Arjuna shut his eyes and took two deep breaths, "I... wanted to thank you in a different way as well, please accept... this... " He forces out, proud that his voice stays even and steady. He's not prepared for Artis to whirl and grab him by the shoulders.

"For us? You're not kidding?"

"For you..."

"A feast! Let's dig in, Siegfried!" In no time at all, Artis let go of Arjuna and began to cruise the food for something to eat.

"... at least start with something savory..." Siegfried speaks with the experience of one long-used to Artis's eating habits, as they had reached for a sweet bun first. "Master."

"This alliance is the best already," Artis comments around some roast on crackers. Arjuna stares, for a moment, and then starts laughing. He hasn't had people over since his parents died. He hasn't laughed like this — for no reason, no excitement over battle or thrill, but just happy amusement — in what seems like a very long time.

Karna, standing in the doorway on the other side of the room, wants to laugh as well, but instead he just smiles. It turns into a normal afternoon — sharing stories, sharing food. Artis tells Arjuna about their travels, how to catch crayfish and the best places to get coupons for restaurants. Arjuna in turn hesitantly speaks of his own hobbies — he used to be part of the archery club, he enjoys dance, he used to read superhero comics. Siegfried and Karna exchange their own stories, each with an eye on their Masters.

It would be easy to forget that a war is going on, with moments like these.

* * *

If anyone had been looking up, that night, they would have seen the most curious sight. A horse as dark as night but with a silver shining mane, stepping through the sky. Each hoof-print leaves the imprint of a magnolia blossom in the dark — blooming deep fuchsia, silver and then fading.

Rider has gathered what she needed from the east, the west and the south. There is one more cardinal direction to visit and then she will descend into the war herself.


	6. Chapter 6

"How much longer, do you think? It's not like those heroic types wait very long." Assassin sighs, dramatically. As if he wasn't already preaching to the chorus.

"Another day," his Master barely looks up from the runes that were being woven together. The strongest trap the two of them could come up with together.

"Well! Time to buy us a little more time then."

"Be careful... Robin."

He has to laugh. "Of course, of course! We're going to die together bringing down the best this Holy Grail has to offer. I can't go before my time."

"You really deserve better..."

"Don't start with that, it'll make me puke." Assassin waves, starts to fade to spirit form, only his voice lingering. "I won't be able to work with you all, if you keep it up! Let's keep this a good working relationship, Master."

* * *

She's dying. There isn't any way around it. Berserker drains too much of her energy too quickly, and even though she does nothing but sleep and wander and eat, she's dying. She's sitting in the park — when did she get there? — her hands are covered in red, her mouth is covered in red, she's been feasting on red. A little bit of life trickles back into her, only to get yanked out through her contract.

What had she been wishing for...? (A sakura blossom, a regret, an empty cradle, someone she could never apologize to.) Ah, it didn't matter anyway. 

Someone steps into existence before her, a Servant, probably. She wants to laugh, but instead she bites her fingers.

"Woah, hey there. We still have an unfair part for you to play." He catches her hands with his own, pulls them down away from her mouth. He's grimacing, it's a sorry sight. She's completely lost it, it won't be too soon before she burns out and dies.

He tells himself, it's fine to use her since she's on death's doorstep anyway. Besides, being underhanded is fine. In a war there are only winners and losers, glory and vanity are tacked on at the end — justice and truth are relative terms.

"So, why don't we give them a show?" He brushes his thumb over her command seals — something like a broken diamond, but only one was left — "I bet if you destroy everything, your wish will come true."

She didn't really understand his words. But her wish. She wanted her wish more than anything. If she could just make it happen then everything would be fine. 

" _Berserker._ "

The seal starts to crack and then fade. She's so hungry. But soon it won't matter. At her call, her Servant is coming and at her order — everything will be destroyed.

* * *

Robin seats himself in a high tree, far away from the commotion. It will only buy them a day, at the most. The labyrinth had only bought them a little time as well. He's not unfamiliar with running towards his death, but this game gets tiresome, even for him.

* * *

Arjuna looks different. Karna feels some regret, because the boy that walks with him into battle this time has lost some of his confidence. He is still self-assured, but there is something guarded about him. The edge of one of the white bandages around his neck peeks over his shirt collar. Perhaps it is Karna who is more guarded, this time.

There isn't even a bounded barrier around the park. Arjuna wrinkles his nose, "Careless... what kind of magus did this..." But it's a rhetorical question. Just the previous night he had commented that the felt sorry for anyone who summoned Berserker, or that anyone who did must be desperate. "Let's end this quickly."

"Understood."

They underestimate Berserker, first. Berserker doesn't even have a truly human-like form, it's nothing like any Servant Arjuna could imagine. Instead its coils of vines and horns and a wide gaping mouth. Sometimes, when it stills there can be traces of a human form, wrapped in fur and caked in mud — but it's gone all too suddenly.

Karna can't even get close, because the ground ripples up and splits — shards of earth like broken swords and just as sharp keep him at a distance. The thrown earth easily breaks through all of Arjuna's shields, and soon he deems it not even worth putting them up. Karna wants to defend him. He wants to stand by his side to make sure he was safe.

Shards and petals. Another wave of earth is thrown at them and Karna would have struck it down, but Arjuna stands like an archer and the stance is so familiar it makes Karna hesitate. It isn't Arjuna's normal spell — that one is more stationary, he stays still and the arrows move around him. Instead, it's a long forgotten memory that moves Arjuna's hands, draws a bow that Karna can see as clearly as he can the battle before them. Gandiva.

The magic arrow splits the ripple of soil, splits through Berserker's power and rains down dirt around them. Arjuna's face is determined and thrilled. Karna hasn't seen that smile in so long. So when Arjuna offers his hand, knuckles first, Karna can't help but to return the eager smile with one of his own and brush their hands together.

"Finally, someone worth your best." Arjuna says. "Let's tear them apart, Lancer."

"As you wish it." Karna agrees.

The fight won't be easy, but suddenly it seems ridiculous that he would have had any worry. Arjuna's exuberance carries him forward. The only thing to do is to press forward with his lance and knock down all the enemies that challenge them.

— _O sun, abide to death._

* * *

"... another one done," Artis says, under their breath. Siegfried nods. When Berserker had once again surfaced they had already been tracking another presence — _lets leave it to those reliable guys_ had been the feeling between them. "Seems like things are winding down pretty quickly..."

"Master," Siegfried steps more fully in front of them.

Before them a woman — a Servant — stands. Beside her is a horse with a saddle built for speed riding, with hooves silver like the stars. Rider. Her hand is on the hilt of her sword, and her gaze measures them.

"It's time for us to join in again, too." Artis gathers air in their left hand, calls it to be a shield.

Rider doesn't move, even as Siegfried moves to a ready stance. Her horse's ear flicks forward and then back.

All three of them wait. Then Rider's impassive face twitches, and she exhales. "... Shall we?" Is all she says.

Siegfried bows, a deep formal bow. When he straightens, Rider's face has shifted again, to a slight smile of acknowledgement. He nods, and waits for her to mount her horse. She points her sword down at him, and in another breath their battle begins.


	7. Chapter 7

Saber and Rider battle for one day and then another half a day. She is faster than him, by far, but each of her blows is like rain against his armor, his invincible curse. It is only when the sun is highest again that his sword finds her. (Guided by Artis standing behind him, their mind open and clear, tracking the patterns of Rider's movements and calling out a guess to her next position.)

She has no regrets and Siegfried can only find her admirable. He and Artis head home — Artis perched on his shoulder, their hand in his hair. Two left.

* * *

Arjuna wakes — the sun is low in the sky, casting odd shadows on his walls and his legs are tangled in the sheets. Karna is nearby, Arjuna can feel him move and shift but all of that feels like muted white noise. As soon as he wakes — as soon as he is certain, so sure that he is himself and no longer in the dream — he starts gasping for breath.

It's panic.

It felt too real — he can still smell the blood. 

He wouldn't do that. He tells himself — _I wouldn't. I didn't. I can't._ He says it in his head and then out loud but he can't erase the image from his mind. Karna's back — and in the dream, his own sense of dread and conflict before acceptance and righteousness and then the blood. Gushing, pouring, spraying. He didn't believe there could be that much blood in one human, but it poured out of Karna's neck and instead of horror or sorrow, in the dream surely only the dream, he had been elated.

"Arjuna." Karna's worried face enters his field of vision. Arjuna realizes he must still be hyperventilating but he doesn't know how to calm down. He's disgusted with himself and terrified.

Arjuna shakes his head. He doesn't want to cry but he doesn't have any air for words. He wants to be comforted but he doesn't want Karna to see him like this either. He doesn't understand his own feelings. It's like an hourglass is inside his chest has just been turned upside down. Pieces and bits are falling and he wishes he could stop them, keep them in place, but he can't.

Karna pulls him into a hug and presses a kis to his hair. Arjuna can barely feel it.

They stay like that for some time, until Arjuna can will himself to move — to speak and say it's fine. He just had a nightmare. He's ready for the day, they need to prepare to track down assassin.

* * *

"Strong enough bait?" Assassin's master asks, finishes the final seal on the entrance to their hideout. It was an old treehouse before they reinforced it with magic and traps and made it into something entirely different.

"Lancer, at least, will," Assassin shakes his head. "I made sure of that, but remember, Master! I'm hardly a powerful Servant, so we'll have to do it as planned."

"I don't have any plans on deviating, do you?"

"No way, fighting dirty is always more interesting!"

"Then let's get started."

They dropped all cloaking or hiding of their presence and let it be known — here is Servant Assassin. And they waited.

* * *

"Lured into another trap, they're not very creative, huh."

Arjuna looks at the entrance way of the 'forest' — it's not a real forest, his senses can tell that. What they see, the trees and dark foreboding 'woods' is nothing more than a kind of illusion. It's what lies beneath that is a concern — and he can't see that.

"There's more to this than meets the eye." Karna is in agreement. "Your orders?"

"Forward." Arjuna is short of patience. He is determined that this time, he won't get caught unaware — he won't be a burden on Karna. He doesn't know what Karna is thinking, but they both press forward with no intentions to make the same mistakes as the past.

The illusion persists past through threshold, trees and thicket, briars and vines. The forest feels incredibly old and incredibly alive. The darkness of the canopy blotted out the sun.

"Hide and seek... childish." Arjuna mutters, and calls up some light. It burns bright and blue in his hand. 

"Hey, hey, you know what they say about fire and forests," Assassin's voice calls out to them — it seems to come from everywhere. "Not a recommended combo! But let's save that for in a few seconds. Welcome to my Forest, where you'll meet your end. Well, one of us will."

"This is a bothersome way to go about a fight." Arjuna replies, "Why don't you just show yourself so Lancer can rip you apart?"

"Oh~ ho~ aren't you a little yappy attack dog?" Assassin's smirk can he heard in his voice.

Arjuna is furious. Beside him Karna's expression darkens and with one sweep of his lance he clears an entire section of the illusionary forest. Trunks and foliage crumble to ash, the grass scorches. Runes flash once, before degrading. The trees spring up again.

"— wait!" Arjuna's hand swings out in front of Karna, who had not even begun to prepared another strike.

"Figured it out, did you?" Another voice, this must be Assassin's Master, softly calls out. "We fine tuned our trap for you, Heroic Spirit Karna and his Master."

"It wasn't that hard! Can you believe it? A guy like that... flashy, far too flashy." Assassin sighs, "Of course, you could have been Saber, but looks like that guy's way too slow."

Karna inclines his head slightly to Arjuna. A clear question: What do you want to do? Arjuna notices the tight grip Karna has on his lance, the way that he stands, wanting to edge in front of him. They're both too worried about what happened before, at being played, at being discovered. He still didn't have any idea who Assassin might be, despite researching thoroughly.

"We'll take it apart." Arjuna says.

"My territory?" Assassin laughs — it's forced, even Arjuna can tell — "Go ahead and try, but it's been prepared especially for you. And we're not going to just give you the time to hang around and figure out the solution, got it? By the way, if you come to the center clearing, we can duke it out like real men or whatever has got you jonesing."

It's the same set up as before, Arjuna knows. They move forward, recklessly and get ensnared by a second trap. A trap within a trap.

"Haste isn't always your best option." Karna's comment is too much like an admonishment. Arjuna can't hear the self-deprecation in it so he only rolls his eyes in response.

"If I had more time I could undo it from here, I bet." Arjuna tries to feel for the makings of the magic. Everyone has a tell — a thread to unravel — or something similar. There is no magic (except, perhaps, something even more true than what he has been taught) that can't be undone.

He carries a name for victory and one for a shining beacon. Both of them are part of who he is, unmaking and destruction have also been handed down to him.

"I did say you wouldn't have the time to figure out it! Get moving!"

Assassin's words are a warning, but they hardly need it. From the trees — from each branch — thin silver wires are made visible. They shine and shimmer and from each one a small purple bead travels back and forth. It's almost beautiful — like an amethyst being pushed from one end of a string to another — but when Karna reaches out and brushes one of the strands aside, it bursts. The violet bead explodes into a small cloud of acid and poison.

"— Arjuna — " Karna looks to him. Wires crisscross around both of them. Arjuna tugs the collar of his shirt up, tries to breathe shallowly.

"Come get me." He orders, "And then we'll go to the heart of this forest."

"If those are your orders." Karna has no arguments with that. The poison capsules continue to break and leak their toxin into the air — where it touches Karna's skin, it's strong enough to leave light burns. Arjuna thinks of healing them right away, but doesn't — he doesn't know what they'll face, and every scrap of magical energy he has might be needed.

Karna holds his lance in one hand and easily balances Arjuna in the other. Pressed close as he is, Arjuna murmurs a secret — Karna cuts and pretends to play the game Assassin has set for them, and Arjuna will work to undo the construct the other Master has created. The forest seems to stretch forever, though. The trees crowding closer and closer together, despite being cut down, until they're faced with a wall. Tree trunks lined up next to each other, forming a solid surface.

"Dead end," Arjuna reaches out and feels the wood. He's so close to breaking the illusion.

It's hard to say if the arrow was shot first or if Assassin spoke first. "Exactly it!" But the small bolt buried itself in Karna's arm, just above the elbow. Another silve thread is wrapped around the bolt end. It jerks Karna's arm back, and he almost loses his grip on his Lance, the thread leading back towards another tree.

Beneath Karna's feet another symbol revealed itself — a magic circle that resembled a summon circle. Arjuna realizes what it is immediately. A circle to sever contract. It glows and powerful magic hums through the air. Assassin fires more bolts, each with wire leading off in a different direction, more attempts to keep Karna pinned in place. He breaks the wire, but as soon as he severs one, Assassin adds another.

"...this too..." Karna says, but the half-completed through is interrupted.

"If it's archery, then this is fine." Arjuna steps forward. He points with his bow — it glows beautiful and blue in his hands, called up by magic and his old soul — first at Assassin. Then, with the smallest quirk of his lips — "I'm quite angry." — shifts up, over to the right and fires into the trees.

Assassin's eyes widen and immediately he's turning, running — "Dodge it, you idiot!" He's yelling. The relationship is very different. Where Arjuna had not lifted a finger to help his Servant, because his options were to cut the wires and watch the spell be complete and unravel their contract, or seek out the source of the magic circle. Assassin and his Master, however, had something more tenuous.

"... Lancer." Arjuna feels this is the wrong decision to make, especially as the last thing they saw as Assassin's fleeing back, but it's war. They need to win. "Kill him."

Karna pulls the last of the crossbow bolts out, steps forward with only one small pause — "Of course." — and then he too gives chase.

Arjuna scuffs at the magic circle on the ground with his shoe. He'll finish tearing down the illusion, but he bets that Karna will have dispatched Assassin long before he joins them. The fight already feels over to him.

* * *

The arrow — it had felt like a real arrow, not just a bolt of magic — had torn through his Master's side entirely.

"This is too unfair for a Master to have that kind of power." Robin mutters his hands hovering over the hideous wound. "Do you want to make a run for it, Master?"

"Don't think I'll be running much."

"Nonsense. I'll be the distraction and you head on down into town, no one will attack you at a hospital. I'm about at the bottom of my bag of tricks, you know?"

"...Isn't that a little brave for you? Whatever happened to the Master of Cowardice?"

"It's all the same to me. If you die, I die. If I die but you live, well..." Robin looks away. He scratches his cheek. "Our team can still win. You might even get lucky and contract up with a more powerful Servant. Since you summoned me, you deserve a do-over!"

"All right." His Master sighs, gingerly stands. "Not sure it'll be a walk, might just be a fast hobble."

"Hobble as fast as you can, Master~ These big powerful guys aren't very bright. I'm sure I can entertain him for a while."

"Robin." His Master says, before completely leaving him alone, "...Beat the shit outta him." 

"Roger that! When this is all over let's go home and share a meal. I'll put it on your tab." They both smile at each other — Robin's lopsided and a little bitter, it's only when he's joking can he admit that kind of wish and his Master's is a tearful grin.

It's only after his Master has left his sight that Robin looks down at the ground, at his own hands: "What a pain... I really am in for it this time. Babysitting stupid kids never suited me much anyway. See you around, Master."

* * *

Assassin meets Karna, face to face, unlike any of the rest of his tricks. He's only armed with a short knife — either all of his crossbow bolts were exhausted, or he had simply cast it away. It isn't a long fight, the knife never reaches Karna. Only the tip of his lance pierces Assassin's chest, right next to his heart.

"... Kind of cruel... isn't it?" Assassin asks, "Did I make you mad? Got to say... your own negligence is killer, huh?"

Karna doesn't read the humor — its double meaning — in the words at all and with a flick of his wrist the lance's broad blade turns and shreds Assassin's heart. Almost simultaneously the forest around them fades. Arjuna finally broke through.

"... Karna," Arjuna comes to him shortly, his magic finding every poisoned burn and arrow-hole, removing any imperfections and small pains. "Let's go home."

On their way out they pass the body of Assassin's Master. It hadn't been Arjuna's intention, but to maintain an illusion like that the other Master had used their own life to bolster it. Arjuna feels a bit of bile burn the back of his throat, the large burn and missing chunk of flesh had been his fault, his arrow. He thinks, it must be very painful to die from a wound like that.

* * *

Some efforts would never be recognized, some names will always be forgotten.


	8. Chapter 8

(It would be easy enough to have just said: I want to wish for you to stay. Karna doesn't think of it and Arjuna's desire is slightly different.)

* * *

"Saber is the last one." Arjuna groans and buries his face in the couch cushions. He has a headache, in no small part from staying up the entire night. He should be strategizing but instead he just keeps commenting on how the war is ending soon.

It is, almost, as if he wants to prolong it.

"Yes, we are already familiar with each other as well." 

"You'll win, won't you?" Arjuna asks it like an order.

"I will do my best." Karna crouches down next to the couch. In a way, he doesn't understand Arjuna's worries or questions. The life that Arjuna has, now, is so different from the third son of the Pandavas, different from a mature magus seeking the Holy Grail. "...did you decide on a wish?" 

"What would you wish for?" Arjuna turns the question around. He rolls over to look at Karna, to reach out and tug on his bangs. "Do Heroic Spirits even get wishes?"

"It's not uncommon for us to have them." Karna answers, "But I have no wish for the Grail."

"I could wish to rule the world," Arjuna grins, briefly, but the expression doesn't last. The statement feels stupid and immature, even to him. "Though it would be a task far too great and more of a burden than a wish. Being in control of everything like that, it can't be taken lightly."

"Wise," Karna agrees. 

"I could wish my parents alive again." Arjuna says, softly, "Or my brother. If I asked for them all to return, I wonder what it would be like. Everything would change. I miss them a lot, but bringing them back wouldn't change that they had died. Being dead is being dead."

"You don't want them to return?" Karna isn't judging, but his question makes Arjuna sit up sharply. He's defensive and angry, drawing both his knees up against his chest and glaring.

"It's not like that. Weren't you listening to what I said?!"

"Seeing someone again, after their death, is not the same as them never having died." Karna echoes Arjuna's earlier sentiment.

"It will be weird, I'll wonder if everything's gone wrong somehow. You shouldn't be given opportunity like that. I'll certainly be punished for such good fortune, too."

"Are you worried about making a selfish wish?" Karna seats himself on the floor in front of Arjuna. It's an odd scene, with Arjuna still hugging his knees to his chest and Karna sitting placidly in front of him. The red of his cape trailing on the carpet, his posture comfortable even though he looks so out of place.

"Every wish is selfish, but I don't want to upset the world's balance just because I'm shortsighted." Arjuna sighs. "...I don't want it to come back and bite me. It would be nice to undo past wrongs, though."

"Then wish for something small."

"Should I really be using the Holy Grail for that? Wishing for something like a sandwich?" Arjuna laughs, but his voice sounds strained. "The culmination of this grand battle... something small and insignificant."

Karna speaks to the heart of the matter, easily: "Nothing about this has been insignificant."

Arjuna gives him a certain kind of look, over his knees. A little crooked, a little too knowing. An expression that Karna hasn't seen before, on this version of his brother, but one he can easily picture on an older face.

Karna could feel the passing of time speed up.

* * *

The battlefield is set through a series of correspondences with familiars. Arjuna complains that it feels more like arranging a group project than a final fight. They choose a clear field, so neither of them will have an advantage, and they won't be disturbed.

Artis looks like a king, standing in the long grass. Their sweatshirt, which is a little too large, billows out around them like some kind of blue cape, and the wry smile is a little changing and a little indulgent. Arjuna is easily reminded of a story he heard a long time ago as a child — a king who knew his fate, but went to the battlefield anyway, out of duty. He can't remember the ending to the tale, however.

"We may as well just let them go at it." Artis bridges the distance first and offers their hand to Arjuna. "Unless you want to fight me, too. If you do, I'll be sure to give it my all."

"Aren't we supposed to be enemies, right now?" Arjuna takes their hand. Artis's handshake is firm, confident, far too natural for this grand, last, battle of the Holy Grail War. Arjuna feels his own must seem slight in comparison. He grips harder.

"Enemies? I don't know about that. They don't look like enemies either, do they?"

Arjuna looks over to Karna and Siegfried. The two Servants are speaking, low and soft. They look like old friends, somehow. The idea irritates him. Karna smiles and Siegfried scratches a cheek, looks away. The scene is too familiar, there's no tension in the air — all of the tension that should be there seems to be sitting on his chest. 

"This isn't really how I pictured it going."

"This is the best possible ideal, isn't it?" Artis puts their hands in their pockets. "Instead of fighting so someone doesn't get it, it's seeing who comes out on top."

"The best of the best," Arjuna tries to see it. Instead he just thinks on how it would be easier to fight if he disliked Artis and Siegfried.

"Ready when you are!" Artis waves and calls out to the pair of Servants. Siegfried raises his hand in acknowledgement and a second later, so does Karna. Arjuna can only, also, wave back somewhat helplessly. "This is how it should be, no ill-will." Artis adds. After a moment of thought, they punch Arjuna in the shoulder, lightly.

He winces. "No ill-will." He echoes.

"No regrets," Artis says and looks toward the battlefield.

He's not sure he can do that.

* * *

"Servant Lancer, true name, Karna." 

"Saber, I'm Siegfried."

They introduce themselves again, even though it isn't needed. For a brief moment, they clasp hands, lean together and it's almost intimate. They could, almost, touch foreheads before in unison they break apart and draw their weapons.

To a casual observer, it would be nothing more than movement, dust and torn grass. Both Servants move too fast and are too powerful to truly be comprehended. Karna's massive spear tears into the earth and through Siegfried's invulnerable armor and seems to slice through reality itself. A Servant of the highest destructive power.

And Siegfried meets him blow for blow. His invulnerability is not so perfect against Karna's onslaught but it isn't as though one of the most celebrated Germanic Heroes isn't strong in his own right, as well. His sword doesn't waver and parries Karna's lance easily.

Karna's lance tears through Siegfried's armor, the large wedge blade burning and cutting through metal and even skin and flesh. It isn't pain that Siegfried flinches away from, if anything he embraces it. The burning sensation that tells a warrior he's alive, that the battle he is in is life or death, that his opponent is — for this moment — the only other real object in the world. The pain of being alive.

In turn, Siegfried's sword tears into Karna's side, cleaving through his clothes and trailing blood. With every breath, Karna bleeds harder and faster. He fends off the next blow, unnaturally agile despite it all. They trade cut for cut, blood for blood, and both of them smile. They know what it will come down to, of course, their Noble Phantasms. Of course, they will pour it all into a final attack and whoever is left standing will be declared the winner. 

A true final battle. The best of the best.

* * *

Artis is calm and Arjuna envies them. They look toward the fight, unblinking, tracking the motion with their eyes and an expression of wonder. Arjuna wonders if they consider it to be an awestriking event. If this is glorious for them. If this battlefield is some culmination of experience for them.

He realizes he doesn't know.

He realizes, as well, that he could kill them. Artis is distracted and for Arjuna it would be an easy thing. His left hand feels warm and he knows he has already begun a spell. He could conjure a single blue arrow, so easily, and lodge it into their neck, the base of their skull, through their chest and deep into their heart.

(Then, too, he remembers.)

Artis watches the battle that unfolds before them, barely breathing and Arjuna remembers a battle from the past. The best of the best, and they're all blinded by Balmung colliding with Vasavi Shakti.

* * *

When Artis summoned Siegfried, it had been a whim and a promise to themself: Never look back, no regrets, memories can't drag me down. They had laughed, pounded their fist against his chest, asked them to stand with them as a partner and nothing more. Walk this road and don't look back.

"My wish? It's already happened, I want to experience this with someone who shares the same idea. Let's live this moment to the fullest, every day."

* * *

The explosion of two Noble Phantasms of such a high caliber clashing is a phenomenon unto itself. The grass scorches, the air creates a vaccuum and for a single second everything burns and disappears and there's only a white hot pressure.

Arjuna thinks that they might all be dying. The heat on Artis's face reminds them of the summer days, warm tracks heated by the friction of passing trains, coffee and the memory of shared warm stew.

(Siegfried says, thank you, I have no regrets. Karna clasps his hand, again, this time they are close enough to bump foreheads as the magic that holds Siegfried to this world disappears.)

* * *

"Are you okay?" Arjuna asks, even though he feels like he's stolen something from them. Artis stands in the burned field, still looking at the spot where the battle took place. They still look calm, their hands still in their pockets, but they haven't looked away. Not after Siegfried vanished and Karna rejoined Arjuna's side. Not in the time that has passed, since then.

"Congratulations," Artis says and then turns, finally, a smile slowly working its way across their face. Their eyes, though, are still fixed on a point far away. "Shouldn't you be going? The Grail is waiting. I hope your wish is a good one."

"It can wait if — "

"Wait? No way, get going." Artis flaps their hands at him, shooing him and then turns back to the empty field. "I have some thinking to do anyway. Goodbyes and all. Don't wait up."

Arjuna can feel it and Karna as well. The pressure of the Grail, the final call for the victors. Arjuna also feels a heaviness to his body, as though he's been born again and just realizing how clumsy and young his new self is. He knows, as soon as they step foot off of the battlefield things will change again. He will no longer be able to pretend he has just been a participant in this war, he will be the victor.

The future will be upon him.

He should have said thank you, but instead he just turns and goes.

"... I guess my wish didn't turn out to come true anyway." Artis says, to no one in particular.


End file.
